


No Laughing Matter

by JulietsEmoPhase



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: April Fools' Day, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daily Prophet, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post Hogwarts AU, Post-Hogwarts, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulietsEmoPhase/pseuds/JulietsEmoPhase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Prophet runs an article many misinterpret as an April Fools joke, and Harry is absolutely furious.  </p><p>Post Hogwarts, non-epilogue compliant, established relationship.  No smut. Birthday Present!</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Laughing Matter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldenTruth813](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday present for my utterly wonderful friend Janel (@goldentruth813)’s 30th birthday on April 1st (April Fools Day). This turned out quite a bit more serious than I thought it would, but I’m happy with all the feels regardless. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy xxx

No Laughing Matter

 

 

   Harry was livid.  He couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry.  He was seeing spots in front of his eyes and there was a lovely ringing in his ears like a kettle coming to the boil. 

   He gripped the letters he still had bunched up in his hand, not caring if any of them ripped or fell to the floor of his kitchen.  They all said the same thing, and there were plenty of others littered about the house to more than make up for any he destroyed. 

   He should destroy them all, that’s what he should do.  Just summon them all and fling them in the fireplace.  But he couldn’t seem to bring himself to do it alone, not until Draco had come home.

   He didn’t exactly want Draco to have to suffer as well, but honesty was such an integral part of their relationship and it felt like he was hiding the evidence if he just got rid of it all without Draco being able to see what they were up against.  So Harry paced up and down the length of the table again, flicking the crumpled, sweaty parchment from his screwed up fists and half-heartedly picking up other letters as he passed.   

   _“Good joke Harry, who would believe that!”_

_“Nice one guys, but we all know what the date is.”_

_“Surely the Prophet could try harder to convince us of something a little less far-fetched?”_

_“Urgh, I just had my breakfast.”_

_“That’s not funny Daily Prophet, it’s just offensive.”_

   Harry felt the tears prick at his eyes and his throat burned as he ripped them into shreds one by one.  There were so many things about this eating him up he didn’t know which to gnash over first, so instead he dropped into one of the seats and dejectedly sipped at his now lukewarm tea. 

   Why did people have to be so unkind, so unfair?  Why was his life so bloody important to everyone, what gave them the right to know every single tiny thing about him?  It had been years since the war, was it too much to be asked to be left in peace?

   “I’m home,” a voice called from down the corridor, accompanied by the door slamming shut and the sound of shoes being scuffed off a pair of feet. 

   “In the kitchen,” Harry said heavily, pushing around a few of the nearest ripped envelopes and folded letters.  He felt perversely guilty; he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet he couldn’t help but feel responsible for their present situation. 

   Draco trotted down the stairs into the basement level kitchen at Grimmauld Place, then stopped at the sight of his boyfriend slumped miserably in front of a large scattering of parchment.  “Ah,” he said knowingly.

   “You saw the paper then?” Harry asked.  He wasn’t exactly surprised.  Draco would have been cooped up in St Mungo’s all evening, but in a place that big someone was bound to have seen the headline and mentioned it to Draco. 

   “I didn’t think you’d still be up,” Draco said, dodging the question.  He shucked off his travelling robe and draped it over the back of one of the chairs before dropping his satchel to the floor. 

   Harry scoffed.  “With all this excitement?” he said, flicking one of the messages so it skittered across the table.

   Draco looked down at him sadly, then crossed the room until he was beside Harry’s chair.  Without warning, he lowered himself so he was sat across Harry’s lap, and folded himself over so his face was nuzzled against Harry’s neck and his arms draped around his back.  “It’s okay,” he mumbled.

   “It’s bloody not!” Harry cried, but he had to admit he was both mollified and calmed by Draco’s physical presence.  He allowed himself to lean into him and rub his back with small, circular motions.  “It’s completely out of order.”

   “I know,” Draco agreed.  “But we should just ignore it.”

   Harry pulled back, forcing Draco to look at him.  “Ignore it!” he spluttered.  “Draco, the things they’re saying about you!  And that’s the people who believe it, most people think it’s a sick joke!”

   And that, if he was honest, was what had Harry really torn into bits.  He expected once his and Draco’s relationship became public anyone and their goldfish would have their own two knuts worth to say about the saviour of the wizarding world dating a former Death Eater.  But the fact most were now dismissing it as some sort of prank against his good name was insulting and infuriating.  He wanted to scream at the lot of them that they didn’t know a single thing about Draco Malfoy, they didn’t know what kind of man he’d become so they should just keep their cruel taunts to themselves. 

   “It’s just because of the date,” Draco tried to sooth him.

   Harry made an exasperated noise.  He knew Draco had had a long shift at the hospital, but he wasn’t understanding why he was the only one losing his temper here.  “I know!” he spat.  “They think it’s an April Fools and that is so fucking _disrespectful.”_

   “Harry, _Harry,”_ Draco tried to placate him, running his fingers through his unruly hair and making him look him in the eye.  “This was always going to get to the press eventually, it’s amazing we’ve been able to have this much privacy so far.  And I don’t care what they’re saying, I don’t, it doesn’t matter.”

   “Why?” Harry demanded, resting his hands on Draco’s trousers and curling his hands into fists again.  “Why aren’t you angry, are you telling me you didn’t get anything horrible come through to you at work?”

   Harry had noticed that all of the correspondence he’d received had been letters owled and addressed directly to him, or bundles from the Prophet every hour as they had been kind enough to forward him all of the many responses they’d received to their exposé.  He’d been worried that people would have the audacity to bother Draco whilst he was on duty, despite how grossly inappropriate that was, but his casual attitude suggested otherwise.

   Draco however shrugged.  “Yeah,” he said with a sad smile.  “Of course I did.  The bin in my office is half full of Howler ash, I’m pretty sure the damn thing was still smoking when I left.”

   Harry blinked at him.  That was exactly what he had been fearing the most.  That the public would treat Draco like some sort of monster who had corrupted and seduced their golden boy over to the dark side.  “Why aren’t you upset?” he asked, reaching up and stroking lightly over where Draco’s heart was beating. 

   “I was,” Draco said kindly.  “I was angry, humiliated, ashamed and pretty much crushed.”

   “No,” Harry mumbled, trailing his hand up to cup the side of Draco’s face.  Those bastards had hurt his baby.  “I’m so sorry.”

   Draco smiled down at him though, and gently rubbed their noses together.  “Then I came home, to my gorgeous boyfriend, who has obviously had rather a large tantrum on my behalf.”  He nodded over to where shredded bits of parchment littered the tiles like confetti.  “And I remembered that it doesn’t matter what any of them say, because you love me.”

   Harry felt the fight blow out of him in one mighty gust.  “Of course I do,” he said, rubbing his thumb slowly against Draco’s cheek. 

   “And I love you,” Draco assured him, grey eyes wide with sincerity. 

   “I know,” Harry sighed.  “I just hate them spreading lies about you.”

   “It won’t go on forever,” he assured him, shifting his weight so he was curled even closer into Harry’s body.  “They’ll be told the truth, or they’ll forget about it, but either way, I still get to come home every day though that door, and know that I am safe here, with you.”

   Harry felt the wetness encroaching on his eyes again, and that hot lump rising in his throat.  “I’m supposed to protect you though,” he offered weakly.

   Draco took his face gently in both his hands, and kissed him tenderly.  “You already do,” he whispered, before kissing him again.  “Let me get rid of all these, okay?”  Harry looked over at the mess in the kitchen, then nodded.  He’d wanted to do that hours ago, but instead he’d let himself stew into a fouler and fouler temper.  He had a headache, and he was suddenly very tired.

   Draco flicked his wand to light the fire in the grate, then again to send every single hateful message zooming into the flames.  “There might be another reason I’m happier than you might expect,” he confessed, then pulled another wad of letters from the inside of his shirt pocket.  They were tiny to start with, but then he cast another charm to restore them to their rightful size, and Harry was left holding a couple of dozen letters in varying sizes.  “They’re from Blaise,” he explained.

   Draco’s friend Blaise Zabini worked at the Prophet, something Harry had completely forgotten up until that moment.  With an encouraging nod, Harry took the envelopes and starting looking through them.

   _“I’m proud of you.”_

_“You both inspire me.”_

_“Don’t let anyone hold you back Mr Malfoy, you paid for the mistakes you made as a child.”_

_“Harry Potter deserves to be with whoever makes him happy.”_

_“You guys make a seriously cute couple.”_

   Most of them were anonymous, but Harry ran his fingers over the writing, imagining all these kind people who had taken the time to make sure he and Draco knew they weren’t alone.  Of course the Prophet hadn’t forwarded _these_ onto him, they probably wanted to push him until he flipped out and gave them a real front page.

   “Tell Blaise thanks,” he said.  “For sending these on.”

   “I already did,” Draco told him with a peck on the cheek.  “Now I’m sure your legs must be going numb, and you look like crap.”

   “Thanks,” Harry managed to huff out with a small smile.

   But Draco just ran his fingers reassuringly through his hair again, sending shivers down his spine.  “Come to bed, love,” he murmured. 

   Harry nodded, bone tired and somewhat dizzy.  His fury had wound him up so tight, now Draco had come home and made it vanish he felt thoroughly worn out.  He allowed Draco to stand and pull him up after him, slipping his arm around his shoulders so Harry could tuck under his wing.  “I just want to protect you from them, it’s all complete rubbish.”

   Draco sighed as they made their way up the stairs.  “And I told you, you are already protecting me by just saying that, by reminding me that there’s nothing that can break us, certainly not some silly rumours.”  He leaned down and kissed the top of Harry’s head, leading them towards their bedroom.  “I love that you’re so mad on my behalf, it’s very flattering on the old ego.”  He caught Harry’s eye and smiled at him.  Harry tried to give him one back, but it fell a little flat.  “But I’m okay.  As long as we’re together, I’m okay.”

   “Okay,” Harry repeated, nodding again.  He felt lighter, and didn’t fuss when Draco undressed him and pulled them both between the sheets.

   Draco curled around Harry once more, his chest warm against Harry’s back, his arms and legs looped around his body possessively.  “Mine,” he whispered in the darkness as their breath rose and fell together. 

   “Yours,” Harry agreed, kissing the hand entwined with his. 

   Draco was right.  It had been inevitable that their relationship would be thrust into the public eye at some point, and that some people wouldn’t like it.  But what did that really matter, when their home was filled with love and trust?  They had weathered tougher storms than this by themselves, it was against almost impossible odds that they’d ever got together at all.  And now here they were, indestructible.  People could laugh all they wanted, there were some things that would just never break. 

 

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please review! To discover more of my writing, visit www.helenjuliet.com


End file.
